TAMBURLAINE. Thus are the villain cowards [306] fled for fear, Like summer's vapours vanish'd by the sun; And, could I but a while pursue the field, That Callapine should be my slave again. But I perceive my martial strength is spent: In vain I strive and rail against those powers That mean t' invest me in a higher throne, As much too high for this disdainful earth. Give me a map; then let me see how much Is left for me to conquer all the world, That these, my boys, may finish all my wants. [One brings a map.] Here I began to march towards Persia, Along Armenia and the Caspian Sea, And thence unto [307] Bithynia, where I took The Turk and his great empress prisoners. Then march'd I into Egypt and Arabia; And here, not far from Alexandria, Whereas [308] the Terrene [309] and the Red Sea meet, Being distant less than full a hundred leagues, I meant to cut a channel to them both, That men might quickly sail to India. ]From thence to Nubia near Borno-lake, And so along the Aethiopian sea, Cutting the tropic line of Capricorn, I conquer'd all as far as Zanzibar. Then, by the northern part of Africa, I came at last to Graecia, and from thence To Asia, where I stay against my will; Which is from Scythia, where I first began, [310] Backward[s] and forwards near five thousand leagues. Look here, my boys; see, what a world of ground Lies westward from the midst of Cancer's line Unto the rising of this [311] earthly globe, Whereas the sun, declining from our sight, Begins the day with our Antipodes! And shall I die, and this unconquered? Lo, here, my sons, are all the golden mines, Inestimable drugs and precious stones, More worth than Asia and the world beside; And from th' Antarctic Pole eastward behold As much more land, which never was descried, Wherein are rocks of pearl that shine as bright As all the lamps that beautify the sky! And shall I die, and this unconquered? Here, lovely boys; what death forbids my life, That let your lives command in spite of death. AMYRAS. Alas, my lord, how should our bleeding hearts, Wounded and broken with your highness' grief, Retain a thought of joy or spark of life? Your soul gives essence to our wretched subjects, [312] Whose matter is incorporate in your flesh. CELEBINUS. Your pains do pierce our souls; no hope survives, For by your life we entertain our lives.